


The Melbourne Disaster

by A_Tad_Strange1344



Series: The Melbourne Disaster [1]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Brendon Urie - Freeform, Devil’s Key, F/M, Panic! at the Disco - Freeform, Pray For The Wicked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 02:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19122916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Tad_Strange1344/pseuds/A_Tad_Strange1344
Summary: Brendon Urie loses his fame, his family, and his friends. In hopes to turn his life around, he takes on the dazzling city of Melbourne where he is met with a demon named Mr. Fremont who possesses him and forces him to commit unspeakable crimes.The demon is after the Devil’s Key, an artifact that gives the user terrific and unimaginable power.A second demon, under the name of Miss Jackson, is also after the key. They fall in a relationship with false intentions, and Mr. Fremont archives I’m getting the key.Miss Jackson finds out and kills him and Mr. Fremont and Brendon’s soul are condemned to the underworld. Brendon must figure out how to cleanse himself of his sins and get to Heaven.





	1. Say Amen (Saturday Night)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a novelization if the music video “Say Amen (Saturday Night), followed by an epilogue entailing what happened following the events in the video. The epilogue is not canon to the storyline, it’s simply a placeholder for chapters to come!

Melbourne, Australia - March 21, 2030 - 7:48 pm  
I stand in the bathroom with my hands delicately resting on the windowsill, my silhouette shaping in the reflection. I stare giddily down below, past the bushes at a group of masked men’s shadowy figures moving slowly in the darkness of the night. They had no idea what was in store for them.  
I look in the hazy reflection and grab the key and tug on it lightly, closing my eyes. Those creatures were here for my key. Not the Devil’s key, my key. I had earned it and it belonged to nobody else. I would do anything to keep it to myself.  
I would flood this entire house with blood if overwhelming power was the result. I didn’t care if it meant ruthless slaughter of anyone who stood in my path. I earned it.  
I turn away from the window and turn the faucet in the bathtub on. The warm water flows noisily from the spigot, hitting the bottom of the tub heavily and flowing down the drain throughout the pipes. I tried to make it seem as if I wasn’t expecting them, like I was a normal human continuing about my day. The intruders had seen my massacres, so they had to know what I was capable of, but this was to provide a bit of a distraction.  
I face the mirror on the other side of the wall. I stared at the face that watched me. It wasn’t my face. The hairline that pushed too far back on my forehead, the lopsided upper lip, the thick, messy eyebrows. This wasn’t me. I had enjoyed wearing the vessel, but I was becoming tired of feeling stuck to this one body. I was so used to being able to change my appearance, but I had no chances to find another body to take. After becoming so driven with determination to find the key and attain power, I had completely dismissed my need for food and mental stability. I had nearly pushed myself to the brink of insanity.

I shook my head and tried to focus back to the task at hand. The creaking floorboards in the bedroom told me how many people had gathered right outside my door. I unbuttoned my shirt to expose the key and put my hand on it one last time, breathing deeply. If I lost this to something far weaker than I, my existence was meaningless.  
From over the sound of the running water, a faint chiming tone hit my ears.  
It made for a compelling reminder that Alaine was on her way, which made for an even worse situation. I had to get rid of these vermin before she arrived. I couldn’t let her find out I had went behind her back and took the key for myself.

I turned off the water, shifted my cufflinks a little, extended my arms, and opened the bathroom door with confidence.  
I was met with a room filled with masked intruders of all sizes, all of them holding knives, crowbars and other weapons.  
I took in their appearance because for a few moments.  
All they could do was stare at me with terror.  
“Good evening, gentlemen.” I greet, raising an eyebrow, “Can I help you with something?”  
Each of their eyes seemed to simultaneously narrow to my chest, where the key shifted against my shirt. A few of them pointed towards it with the sharp end of their weapons and motioned to their friends.  
“Ah, right.” I respond with sarcastic oblivion, “This old thing.”  
“If you want it so bad…” I reach up and button my blazer over the key, shrugging. “It’s right here.” I pat my chest and smirk at them.  
Still, none of them moved.  
I didn’t have the ability to smell fear or any emotion for that matter, but these humans were so terrified the room reeked of their sweat and their heavy breathing.  
I laugh a little, and casually make my way to my dresser where the phone was lying. She was already on her way to the house. In order to stall a little, I tell her I need some more time to get ready, 30 minutes in fact. It wasn’t a generous amount of time, but I was sure getting rid of the annoyance wouldn’t be hard.  
I opened a drawer and saw a plethora of ties lined up neatly side by side. I picked up two and thought about how I could use this to my advantage. Once I did that, I reach above me and click on a rusty old fan that looked as if the spokes could fly off its hinges any minute.  
“Come on, now, don’t be shy. I only bite a little.” I beckon over my shoulder.  
After I have the ties looped together tightly, the end big enough to fit around someone’s head, I can hear the floorboards squeak as someone approaches me.  
I spin around quickly, catching a smaller man in his steps. He freezes before me, petrified, turning to the others as they moved for him to keep going.  
“How brave you are.” I reply to his gesture, “Let’s see how you do! Reach right under my coat and you’ve got all the power of Hell in your grasp.”  
He begins to walk forward, but before he can blink, I lash the ties towards his head. The end of the loop tightens around his neck and he struggles for only a moment to try and pull it off.  
I toss the other end of the rope behind my shoulder, and his entire body is dragged into the fan which has been spinning dangerously fast.  
Blood, brain matter, and what perhaps may have been his eyeballs rain down on me like confetti, a celebration of sorts for what I had just done.  
Once the shower of red had finished splattering the walls and the floor, the men had been set off.  
Some of them gathered groups as others charged at me headfirst, one of them grabbing my wrists as his partner reached towards my chest. I thought quickly and nailed him in the throat with my foot and he fell forward on top of me and the other man holding me.  
I was mixed up in the mess of body parts, but I managed to stand up first. I grabbed a flat iron that I had accidentally left on and pressed the searing hot metal right against the face of whoever rose to their feet first. He cried out in agony, as I shoved his head in the full sink of water.  
The iron burst into flames, exploding, sending the other attacker flying against the wall and into a group of masked men that had watched it all go down like idiots.  
Someone grabs me from behind and puts their arms around my shoulders as someone else holds a switchblade to my chest, as I fight to get out of his grip.  
I kick my foot into the switchblade wielder’s stomach, who is pushed back a little. Before he can get back up again, I reach behind me and twist my arms in such a fashion that the man’s neck snaps. I slam his head into the switchblade and throw him aside.  
Pursuing the second man, I corner him to the large glass window at the edge of the bedroom.  
I grab his neck and start out with a light grip as his eyes dart around the room in terror, pleading for help. Everyone else is dead. All that is left for now is a pile of bodies on the bed.  
“Please...don’t you have any mercy?” he says in a croaking voice as I tighten my grip.  
His breathing falters, the color drains from his face, but his painful eyes stay locked on mine when I lift him up in the air.  
“Nope.” I sneer, crushing his windpipe and tossing his body out the window. 

The entire room reeked of burning flesh and my lips tasted of dust and sweat, as the blood stained the walls and little bits and pieces of skin and body parts scattered about the room. I didn’t attempt to hide any of my pride. I walked from the bedroom and glanced at my reflection at the mirror in the hall, nodding in approval. I ran my fingers through my hair and became slightly distracted from checking myself out as a man crept up behind me and as I turned to face him, he came down on my arm with a blade.  
He seemed to be the only one in the hallway, as he stood in front of me with a smug smile on his face. He acted as if he had caused any damage at all.  
I barely felt the knife in my arm, it felt a little bit like a thin needle puncturing me, as I glanced back at him and scowled.  
“I bet that hurt, huh?” he taunted in a thick urban accent. “Guess I can beat the Devil.”  
I watch him closely and my lips curl into a smile. I let out a chuckle, which grows louder, to the point where I’m cackling. The man’s energy seems to shrink back and shrivel up.  
“Is this some kind of scare tactic? You’d make anyone piss their pants with a crazy ass laugh like that,” he tested my patience with each word.  
My laugh halted, my face falling to a deadpan glare. I kept my arm stiff and straight, as I kept my eyes on his drained face. I slowly reached towards the wooden handle on the knife, and while still keeping my eyes locked into his, which flickered as almost even his pupils were shaking with fear, I yanked it out effortlessly with a quiet squelching noise.  
The skin torn from my arm reattached itself back together like glue.  
He stared at me in shock, hardly able to move.  
Immediately, I grab his shirt before he could dart off, and stabbed him right into his stomach, tugging it upwards as it gutted him straight up. He collapsed at my feet, blood gushing from his mouth.  
I carefully step over him, stepping in the pool of blood and getting my shoes stained.  
“You got blood on my shoes, prick,” I jeer, kicking him in the back of the head. He was certainly long dead after that.

The hallway was no longer empty when I turn around. A tall, intimidating man stands there, watching it all calmly.  
“Aw, did the pretty boy get some blood on his shoes?” he pouts with fake sympathy, as he pulls a different knife from his belt, a long one, too, “Well, you’re about to get blood on that whole damn suit of yours. Your own blood.”  
He lunges towards me, but I grab his wrist at the right moment.  
We are now caught in an extremely awkward position, as we push back and forth to try and fight against each other, tripping over our own feet.  
I end up crushing the bones in his wrist from gripping on too hard, pushing it with all of my might to keep the blade away from my face.  
I can see tears welling up in his eyes from the pain, but he keeps fighting against me, barely letting up his grip.  
We push back and forth, walking in no particular direction, and soon I find myself leaning over the top of the stairs. It was a steep drop, and I couldn’t think of a way to escape. I used my other hand to hold onto his shirt collar, hoping I wouldn’t fall.  
“Well, now you’ve really done it. I can take it right now, and then send you rolling down each step with this knife in that big ass forehead of yours,” he tells me.  
He carefully takes his hand off the stair rail and teachers towards the key. My chest burns with anger as his hand inches closer to my neck.  
“Once I have it, the world will be a better place,” he claimed.  
I don’t respond. Instead I do something I didn’t know I could do. Before he can lay a finger on the string that holds the key, I grab the front of his shirt in my fists, and bending my back as far as it can possibly go, I throw him over my head down the stairs. He stumbles down, landing on each step with a thud. And just in case that wasn’t enough, he crashes through the stairway door and into the living room and falls on top of the knife in his hand.

I walk through the door to be greeted by more awaiting intruders, and this time, a good amount of them held guns.  
I roll my eyes.  
My eyes scanned the room and I remembered the large set of speakers Brendon kept. If the sound was high enough, it could probably kill someone.  
I reached beside me, and on the wall, a large switch turned on the speakers with a glow of light.  
Each man turned to it, backing away.  
“Impressive set of speakers, isn’t it?” I say, “Let me show you what they can really do.”  
Another leader held up his gun. “You better not take one more step!” he cried, his hand shaking.  
I smirk a little at him. “Okay,” I reply. Without moving my feet, I lean over still rooted in one spot and grab a random guitar. I had no clue how to play, but twisted the volume knob on the stereo system anyway, strummed a random set of strings, and in an instant, the entire wall was blown out.  
The men’s ears were bleeding, a majority of them crushed under large chunks of the wall. 

A sense of victory tingles in my chest, but that was probably the sawdust I inhaled in my lungs, coating my throat and dusting my eyes. I cough it up and walk to the kitchen.  
It’s quiet. Way too quiet.  
I picked up a cleaver and tread through with caution.  
Suddenly, another body lunges at me, grabbing my shoulders. I feel another hand pry the cleaver from my fingers and a final set of hands force me to the ground.  
The cleaver is thrown to the other side of the room, and I am now faced with the mastermind of it all. I recognize his face, but I don’t remember where I’ve met him.  
Then I find myself rendered to my knees, two hands holding onto each of my arms.  
“I’m going to ask you: what will you do with this key once you receive it? You’re puny and lonely...I don’t think you’ll last a day with the power I have.” I say to the man in front of me, who brings out a small handgun and pressed the barrel in between my eyes.  
“This isn’t about that key anymore. We are getting rid of you for the safety of the world. Our intentions began out for the powers of the underworld, but now we see how dangerous you are. We decided it’d be better if we killed you instead.” he responded.  
Trying to kill me is especially difficult, but I realize I have to act fast, or the bullet will blow every molecule behind my face and above my throat, most likely ending my existence on Earth. My soul will return to Hell, and the key will belong to them. The erasure of my hard work will humiliate me, devastate me, and end my reputation of being a relevant threat at all.  
The leader glares down at me, the ends of his scowling mouth dragging down further.  
“I ain’t afraid to kill you,” he claims.  
“Then why haven’t you?” I question in an annoyed tone.  
His finger moves to the trigger, his pointer brushing it anxiously.  
Suddenly, I hear a gunshot from the other side of the room.  
His head explodes, the rest of his body collapsing to the floor.  
I turn to spot Alaine smiling with a trace of insanity, panting.  
She is covered in blood and sweat, a crazed gleam in her eyes.  
She kicks the two men holding me down and grabs them by the collars. I’m slammed against the wall by her force and I fall to the ground.  
All I can do at this point is watch.  
She tosses one man onto the counter violently stabs him in the stomach, while the other man cries his name in horror, glancing back at me as if I would do anything to help him.  
She then grabs a cleaver and slams the blade through his arm, forcing it down his throat.  
Once she finishes the first man, she whirls around and stares down the second, who is shaking in fear.  
Alaine is dangerously fast as she advances towards him, and the man backs up, all the way to the open basement door, and he trips over the first step.  
Once he crosses the line I can only imagine what could have happened.  
The sound of him falling down on each step ended with a wail of fear.  
It sounded animal-like.  
I heard the firing up of machinery, like a saw, followed by his whimpering pleas.  
I sit on the floor with an expression of awkwardness, listening to his screams, which diminish as the saw powers down.  
Alaine comes back upstairs, wiping the blood off her face.  
Her eyes are filled with rage and insanity when glances at me, waiting for me to say thank you.  
“You’re a little early.” I say tell her, deadpan.  
“I saved your life, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t act like the narcissist that you are,” she replies, irritated. I could tell she was shaken up from slaughtering in cold blood.  
“Okay, yes, I supposed I’ll give you that,” I say as I wipe sweat from my hairline.  
We stare at each other like dogs ready to pounce, a tense aura ricocheting off our souls.  
I felt the hateful heat radiating off of her. It made my whole body tingle.  
The thing about Alaine; she had changed drastically.  
She had kept the same vessel this entire time, just as I had, but her face was distorted.  
It looked sunken and pale. Her eyes changed different muted and dull colors each time she blinked. The body was overwhelmed with her strength and was wearing down and falling apart at the seams.  
Everything is still until the kitchen door swings open and more burglars face us.  
Alaine shoves me out of the way, practically throwing herself into them and mauling each person to death, ripping them apart.  
Miss Jackson was a lore I feared beyond words, and this display was just further evidence on why. It was a powerful void that could bend to almost any mold, fit in with any criteria, and use more than just manipulation to get what it wants. Miss Jackson wasn’t just a soul, weak and defenseless like others were. She was a relentless, bloodthirsty monster. A brutal and savage beast that was more dangerous than any naturally occurring Earth creature.  
With the little given time I had to reflect, I realized that ray of hate that was pulsing off of her body may have because of me. It seemed strange to me because I felt feelings for her or at least feelings of yearning. I yearned for her knowledge, her strength, to the point where I feared her. I wanted to be her.  
I tried to focus my attention back to the task at hand.  
Alaine still went strong, one snap of a neck here, one hard crack of a skull here, she didn’t hold back.  
I was petrified, almost frozen with my feet planted to the ground. All I could do was watch her slam a man’s head in an oven door, his brain matter bursting out before me.  
She rushed over to me, “You gonna wake up?!” she panted.  
“I am definitely awake right now,” I replied with a wavering voice.  
“You look like a fucking deer in headlights! Get your ass in gear and make yourself not a waste of matter!” she roared, grabbing my arm.  
I could only stand there and stutter. She groaned in exasperation and rolled her eyes, “You are so useless!!!” and as she turned towards the group, we were trapped.  
The rest of the attackers didn’t wait for us to work out our petty fight. The remaining survivors gathered around us, our back against the countertop. I was already feeling my body losing its strength. My legs felt numb and my arms quaked, feeling heavy.  
I backed up and felt my back brush up against the microwave. I turned around and realized what I needed to do.  
Grabbing sliver forks out of the cabinet drawer, I tore open the door a little panicked, tossed them into the box, set the timer to a random number, and crouched to the floor. I saw Alaine run towards the kitchen door and slam it shut so there was no chance of escaping.  
The microwave distracted them in just enough time.  
It burst into flames, exploding into little pieces, cutting and blinding the remainder of the men that were lucky enough to stay alive.  
The last of the intruders were gone. Dozens of cold bodies lay about the floor.

One final man was alive, lying in a contorted position the ground, moaning in agony.  
Dozens of glass shards from the microwave stuck out from his eye socket and neck.  
It almost made me pity him, as he gasped for air and looked up at me with begging eyes.  
I quickly looked away from him to avoid feeling manipulated and remorseful.  
His fingers curled and his back arched. I waited for him to die, but it didn't seem like it was coming.  
I placed my foot on his chest with great force, feeling his ribs break merely from the first step.  
His breathing became strained, the weight of my leg pacifying his cries.  
I closed my eyes and tried not to watch as his skin turned purple and his eyes filled with water and blood.  
I continued to compress his lungs until his face turned white and his eyes clouded with the telltale sign that he died. 

I leaned against the countertop and took a breath. I was over-exerting myself to the point where I could feel the body’s exhaustion. I felt weaker, a little sick to my stomach. My legs and arms trembled. The guilt from suffocating that poor soul ached in my chest.  
But Alaine was not ready to stop, nor did she seem to feel any remorse.  
She grabbed my collar and pushed me further up onto the countertop.  
“I didn’t know you had that in you.” she whispered, “Nice work.”  
I smiled at her, and she leaned in and kissed me as if she was trying to keep me still.  
Her tongue forced its way down my throat and her hands held my waist down.  
I felt a mix of arousal and discomfort, but I allowed her to continue.  
I was still shaking out of exhaustion, so I couldn’t hold her back from getting too rough.  
Her hands traveled up my shirt, and her nails dig into my bare back.  
I yelped a little and pulled away. “Careful, darling,” I warned, holding her chin.  
“What? Even when I’m going down on you it’s hard to handle?” she laughed.  
I shook my head, “Fine then. Keep going.”  
We continued about and I didn’t know how to keep her from hurting me.  
Sex with a demon isn’t very enjoyable, especially with Alaine.  
She pulls off her jacket first, and while forcing my face to remain on hers, she reaches for the seam on my button up.  
She undid each button carefully, my undershirt becoming exposed.  
Then I felt her push away.

I looked back at Alaine, grinning wide. “Why’d you stop?” I ask, looking at her concerned.  
Her eyes stared at my chest in shock, her eyes reflecting hurt, with a glimmer of anger.  
“Oh, you bitch!,” she growled, a distorted undertone in her voice.  
I glanced down and saw the key exposed out in the open. How did I forget it was there?  
“I knew you had taken it, deep down, but I didn’t want to say anything until I had proof. This little display proves me right!” her shouting ripped her vocal chords, turning raspy and harsh.  
I try to explain myself, but she is not interested in any excuse of mine, the only thing she wanted from me was the key.  
She lunges herself into me, and I am shoved into the hardwood floor. The back of my head hits a glass table and it smashes right through.  
I am now surrounded by shards of glass and fragmented wood. My head stung, I felt the warm blood trickle down my neck and leak from my nose.  
There was no stopping her or fighting back. I was already too weak from the lack of energy.  
She grabbed me by the collar and lifted me to my feet.  
My vision is blurry, the corners of my mouth smeared with blood and my face covered with bloody gashes from the glass. I reach forward and grab Alaine’s around the neck and hold her there, slamming her against the wall with the same brute force.  
As I hold her there, she is fighting hard to break free. Her eyes are ablaze with rage, her aura becoming hot and electrifying, as a buzzing pulsed throughout my body.  
My grip continued to tighten until the aura weakened. I stared into Alaine’s eyes, which were beginning to dim.  
Her breathing was strained and all that escaped her throat was quiet croaks.  
As I began to think she was finally almost dead, she did something I would never expect her to do.  
She swiftly kicked her foot in my crotch, a weak spot that I never knew I had.  
My reaction was nothing over the top.  
The pain was indescribable, I almost didn’t believe my own senses at first. It was so immense and downright undignified that I couldn’t collect any thoughts. It was almost like my entire waist and torso went numb, my legs feeling broken. I couldn’t tell if this was normal, but I didn’t care.  
It was the one of the most intense feelings I would ever have to endure.  
I fell to my knees, my energy completely gone by now.  
“And, for your information,” Alaine began, nailing the back of my head with her foot again. Yanking on my shirt and ripping the thread inside, her face is dangerously close to mine while she speaks in my ear slowly, “I always knew you took it behind my back. I just pretended to be oblivious so I could earn it back by kicking your ass. There’s no greater feeling of satisfaction to destroy someone that’s hurt you.” She then slams my body back down into the wall, busting a huge hole with my weight. I roll to my side and let her feet slam into my face. She knows how to guilt anyone, including me, to the point where I felt that I deserved this humiliating beat-down.  
I am now laying flat out on the kitchen floor, my hands still in between my legs, my face throbbing. I am rendered completely defenseless while I sit there against the wall and beaten senseless by another demon. The most powerful demon of all, in fact.  
I am in so much pain the only sound coming from my mouth is a choked grunting sound as each punch lands.  
Finally, she lets up, out of breath. Her face is bright red and her hair is a mess.  
The punches end, but the pain does not. I am left struggling to catch my breath with choked cries of agony. Alaine stands over me with a smirk, turning around to walk away.  
I try to work up strength to talk, to beg, to do anything, but all I can do is sit there and wait for the pain to fade if it ever would.  
I managed to sit up straighter and open my eyes, watching helplessly as Alaine turns around and pries a metal bat from another unconscious robber.  
I stare back in horror, “Alaine, wait, stop!” I plead, tears coming out. My voice sounds distorted, as if even my voice had lost its power.  
She ignores me, barely blinking an eye.  
With one swing, the bat flies into my temple, and I lose consciousness.


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a after-thought for Say Amen. This is merely a thought, it’s not canon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not completed. I will only complete if there is demand.

Manny and Ronaldo lifted their heads slightly over the marble, peering a quick glance into the disheveled kitchen. Manny reached the sight first, spotting the pale, hollow face of Brendon merely a few feet away. He couldn’t tell what actions the man was making as he ducked behind the shelves nervously. “He’s out there.” Manny hissed, gritting his teeth. Ronaldo nodded, “Of course he is.” he replied. Manny was terrified, he was still a teenager at merely twenty years old, and after witnessing complete strangers get slaughtered all around him, he had every right to fear the killer.

Ronaldo peered over to take a closer look, and with a light gasp, he tapped on Manny’s shoulder.  
“What’s wrong?” Manny asked, popping his head up fast. The broken lamp that was dangling over the counter smacked him on the forehead, knocking him back onto the floor.  
“Come on, you idiot!” Ronaldo snarled, grabbing his collar and forcing him to stand back up.  
“Is this your first time on your feet?” he asked.  
Manny watched him sheepishly. “Sorry…” he placed a hand on his head. He smeared a little blood around on his forehead from an open gash. 

“Great...more head trauma…” he murmured.  
“It’s not time to worry about that now. Look.” Ronaldo said, forcefully turning Manny’s head towards Brendon.  
Brendon was sitting in a chair, his head hanging lifelessly over his chest, slumped over.  
His hands were tied behind him, rope wrapping up and down the chair as if the one who tied the ropes was in a hurry. His face was extremely bruised, as well as his arms which had scratches and marks up and down them.

“Holy shit.” Manny breathed in shock.  
“Someone...took him down…” Ronaldo said.  
They both walked out from behind the counter and crept up to him, careful not to wake him.  
“You know what this means, right?” Manny said.  
“Sure.” said Ronaldo. “We are about to have that key.”  
“Who’s gonna go retrieve it?” asked Manny.  
“I am, you’re just a kid. Stay here and don’t break anything. If any of them wake up, knock them out again with this.” Ronaldo handed Manny a gun to use in case another robber woke up while he was attempting to grab the key.

Ronaldo slowly stepped over bodies and broken furniture, trying not to trip. As he set his leg down and put all of his weight onto it, his knee buckled. The explosion from the stereo system had completely broken his kneecap and he hadn’t noticed the pain until that moment.  
He let out a groan, falling forward, landing right on top of Brendon. He braced himself for the monster to wake up, but all Brendon did in response was breath a quick puff of air from his nose.  
“What happened?” asked Manny.  
“Nothing, shut up.” replied Ronaldo, embarrassed at his momentary failure.

Ronaldo quickly searched around Brendon’s neck and chest for the key, but it was nowhere to be found. He felt a little bit of disappointment and urgency make his hands shake and his stomach tingle.  
“Dammit!” Ronaldo cried. “Whoever killed him took it!”   
Manny stood up and hopped across the countertop, lifting up the chair and examining Brendon closer.  
“I know how to get it back.” Manny growled, pulling out his pocket knife and cutting the ropes.   
“You’ll wake him up!” Ronaldo warned.  
“He won’t wake up after I gut him like the fish I caught last week.” he said, lying Brendon across the counter.  
“What the hell are you doin’, boy? We ain’t tryin’ to sell his organs.” Ronaldo said.  
“I think he has the key inside said organs.” Manny stated.  
“Excuse me?” Ronaldo responded.  
Manny held the knife up to Brendon’s chest. “I bet you he swallowed that thing. We’re gonna get it out one way or another.” Manny’s twisted thoughts over the fact that the man before him slaughtered his brother made him snap.

As he prepared to slice the top layer of skin, he heard a female voice behind him.  
“That won’t be necessary.” it spoke.  
Manny and Ronaldo turned quickly to spot Alaine, whom they had never met previously, so they only knew her as the blonde girl Alaine was possessing.  
“Who the hell do you think you are, miss?” Manny asked.

“I think I have the thing you're looking for.” she said, calmly lifting up the key from the string delicately.  
Manny shot up quickly from over the body and threw himself towards her with the knife in his hand.  
Ronaldo reached his arms towards Manny and held him back, keeping a tight embrace around his arms.  
“You're a fucking imbecile! She's got all the power in the world and you're threatening her with that? Get real. Sit down in that chair.” he commanded.  
Manny came to his senses, calming down.  
Alaine smirked, “I like that kid. He's brave.”  
Ronaldo turned to her, tilting his head, “How on Earth did you get that so easily? That demon is relentless. He shattered my kneecap to the point where I can barely stand up straight.” he shifted his leg to lift weight off of it.  
“Well, maybe I can put you out of your misery.” Alaine said calmly.  
Suddenly, she pulled a gun from her belt and fired. Ronaldo fell backwards with a splatter of blood exploding from the back of his head, crashing to the floor.

Manny cried out, glancing at Alaine in terror, holding his arms up.  
“Why did you do that?!?!” he cried.  
Alaine walked up and grabbed his collar the same way Ronaldo did and shoved the barrel of the gun in between his teeth. Manny stared back, speechless, with a wide eyed expression.  
“He was useless to me, that's why. A defect in my plan for a perfect system. You, on the other hand, have a little thing called vulnerability and spunk. That could come in handy. But I swear, if you step out of line with anything I say, I will tear you apart and burn each bit of your body into charred, black ash and swallow it. Keep your behavior in check...every time you do something I don't like, I'll cut off a finger. Once each finger is gone…” she took the gun out of his mouth and aimed it up at the ceiling, firing.   
Manny curled into a ball and covered his face and head as the bullet ricocheted off the walls.  
Once the bullet landed a few feet away from the both of them, Manny rose his head up petrified, shaking profusely.

“You understand now, don’t you?” she asked.  
Manny slowly nodded with a light whimper.  
Alaine stuck out a hand and Manny grabbed it, trying to balance himself.  
He felt her grip get tighter, followed by a rough pull. He was yanked to his feet and Alaine held on tight to his wrist. “Hand me that knife. Now.” she growled.   
Her voice almost sounded guttral.  
Manny did as he was told.   
She grabbed the knife and pressed the blade against his pinkie finger. “I want to show you I’m not joking around.”

“Miss…” he began breathlessly.   
“Shut up, or I’ll take off another one.” she threatened, “I want no noises from you, understand? I can’t stand that ear-piercing sound that comes out of your mouths.” she glanced down at his pinkie which was quivering along with the rest of his hand.  
She slide the flat end into his skin, sawing through the finger slowly, as Manny tried to avoid screaming out. His eyes welled up with tears, and his mouth opened, but all that came out were choked squeaks of pain.  
Blood poured from the insertion, running down his wrist and covering his fingers. He started to silently cry before the pinkie came off completely.   
Finally, Alaine let go of him, and he collapsed to his the floor, almost unconscious from the grueling pain.   
Alaine watched him lie on his back, watched him squirm, cracking a wild-eyed smile.  
“Sit up…” she chuckled, out of frustration.  
Manny couldn’t. He was in so much pain.  
He took in a deep breath and forced himself to sit upright.

Tears poured from his eyes as the pain in his hand turned to numbness - a blunt, warm pain.  
“Now...I’m on a mission…” she began.  
“M-Mission?”  
“Shut up!!! Godammit!!!” she shouted, jabbing the knife into his rib cage.  
It barely broke through his skin, as she refrained from gutting him there and then.  
He stared up at her, face frozen in an expression of true terror. His face glistened with tears and sweat.  
His whole body was covered in dried up blood. His face, hair, his hand, it even was smeared on the floor.  
She took pity, at least to see how much agony he was in. She picked up his wool mask and threw it at him.  
“Be resourceful, you incompetent moron.” she murmured, storming off to calm down.  
Manny took ahold of the mask and quickly put it over his open wound.

He paused for a moment to think about speaking.  
“Is...he still here?” he asked nervously.  
Her head whipped around, “Him?” she paused to think of who he was referring to.  
“Ah! That murderous gremlin...that mere disturbance…” she smirked, “Well, obviously you can see I took care of him.” she pointed the knife towards Brendon’s lifeless body still slumped over the countertop. “The police are coming soon. I tied him up to keep him in one place in case he wakes up. When he does, it won’t be pretty.”  
She turned towards the window with an intense stare, trying to listen closely.  
Sirens wailed in the distance.

Alaine grabbed Manny by the arm and pulled him out of the door. Ambulances were already pulling up.   
Dragging the boy behind her, she ran into the backyard and dove behind a row of plants.   
Manny hid behind her, still in a lot of pain, examining the bloody mess of a hand he had underneath the mask. The bleeding had slowed down, but he knew it would start again soon.  
But he then remembered he was dead already. There was no possible way this woman would keep him alive.  
He had so many questions: he just wanted answers.  
He opened his mouth to speak, but she covered his mouth with her hand, putting him in a headlock.   
She stared through the bushes and quietly crept farther out into the neighborhood greenery. A few police cars had begun to pull up.

She dragged him by the head through patches of thorns and shrubs, bringing him to the car she had arrived in parked behind the house.  
She arrived with the intention of getting the key back and killing him anyway, but she had no clue that she would have to fight off so many people.

Four hours earlier  
She arrived at the house in a little bit of a haste. Rage took over her entire body and she was a rattling aura of heat and tension. Her skin was hot to the touch and a single glance could send a light electric shock through you.  
She wasn’t just angry, she was insane with hate.  
She wanted Mr. Fremont dead, not just dead, but wiped from existence.

She approached the back door of the house and rattled the knob. Locked.   
Though her power was very strong, she could only use it when it was most useful. To break down a door, she couldn’t simply rip it off its hinges. She needed a real motive.  
So, instead, she tossed a cinder block through a window near the back door and crawled inside.  
The house was eerily quiet. It was very large to say the least, so Mr. Fremont could be anywhere.  
Then, to her unfortunate surprise, she was grabbed by the hair by a man with a crazed gleam in his eye.  
He held onto her, dragging her into a closet. He kicked her in the stomach and he stumbled backwards, unable to tell which way she was going.  
She yelled mixed swears as she tried to keep her balance, but the man continued to kick and punch her.  
Then, he held up a gun, and fired. She collapsed to the floor and heard the bullet insert itself into the wall behind her.  
Then, the man approached her, grabbed her, and pointed the gun right at her forehead.  
“Who do you think you are goin’ around like that breakin’ shit and comin’ in like you own the fuckin’ place, eh? We’re here on a mission and don’t need no solo players comin’ along taking it from us.” he said in a raspy voice, with a thick urban accent.  
She rolled her eyes, “You’ll never grasp how powerful that key is, sweetheart. The mere sight of it could give your primitive brains pain and torture. I wouldn’t try.”   
The man narrowed his eyes, “Who are you?”  
“We aren’t friends. Why should I tell you? You’re inferior to me, I wouldn’t care if you died.”  
“You’re a bitch.”  
“Fine,” she admitted, “For now you can refer to me as Alaine, but I’m not telling you anything else.”


End file.
